


Teen Spirit

by suomifae



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: M/M, danny and vlad like to fist fight in the hallway, eventually there will be the sappy emotional stuff, teen!vlad au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suomifae/pseuds/suomifae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an ache in Danny's chest that only goes away when he gets into fights with that Masters kid. He doesn't ever want to know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. High School Never Ends

Danny had been walking around school with a tingling ache in his chest for _weeks_ now and he still didn’t know why he felt so empty all of a sudden.

It was a deep ache in his heart and if he wasn’t already half-dead he might have worried about his health, he also might have blamed said half-dead status if he didn’t know for a _fact_ that the ache wasn’t because of his ghost powers going on the fritz. He’d already asked Clockwork about it and the ghost had just given him a sly look and told him not to worry about it.

But it wasn’t going away. And it was starting to get worse.

The most infuriating part and the part he tried his hardest to ignore, was that it eased (just a little tiny bit) whenever he came into physical contact with Vlad Masters (the only other half-ghost in the high school and the only other half-ghost in existence).

It pissed him off. Vlad pissed him off.

He was the biggest, snobbiest, jerkiest asshole Danny had _ever_ had the misfortune to come across. He used his ghost powers only to serve himself and he sneered down at everyone else in the school the tallest fucking high horse. He was rich and that made him part of the in-crowd but even _they_ hated him most of the time. He thought he was better than everyone else; smarter, stronger, and deserving of anything and everything he ever wanted.

It pissed him off. He hated it. He loathed it, _despised_ it.

Vlad was so smug about everything and Danny wanted to punch him every damn time he saw his face, which was freakishly often.

He was mostly glad that the deep, _boiling_ , hatred was a mutual thing.

Vlad hated him just as much for whatever reason.

Which meant that Danny could duke it out with the douche as often as he wanted and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Vlad didn’t question it when Danny started instigating more fist-fights even though they used to spar only verbally. In fact, Vlad seemed to want to fight Danny just as much, like he was just as desperate to get his hands on the other. Just as desperate to draw blood and keep contact.

It didn’t help that the bastard was hot either. But that was a fact that Danny kept buried in the very, very back of his mind. In the deep dark recesses that he was ashamed to admit came back to haunt him in the night with shallow breaths and flushed cheeks.

Those were secrets he’d take to his grave, his full-dead grave.

Along with the tingling ache still creating a gaping hole in his chest, because he’d be damned before he found out just _what_ , exactly, it was going to take to get rid of it.

He had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the biggest dickbag to ever grace the halls of Casper High but he’s wasn’t going to test this theory at all. Ever.

He’d just have to make do with slamming his fist into the other teen’s face and being in detention for eternity for it.

It was working well enough. Especially when Vlad was so eager to fight back. To grab his own fist-fulls of t-shirt, to slam Danny’s body into the lockers with just as much force, to glare at him from such a close distance with burning cobalt eyes, inches from Danny’s baby-blues.

And the ache would disappear for a while. A few hours at most. A few minutes at least.

Then it would come back, mostly long after he and Vlad had been forcefully separated, sometimes even stronger than it had been, sometimes not.

He hated it.

Danny slammed his locker door shut with an echoing bang at the thought of it.

Sam and Tucker, his closest friends, the ones that knew nearly everything about him, shared a knowing look. Danny had been extra irritable ever since the ache had started up and even though he’d kept it secret from them, they were still trying their best to cheer him up. It rarely worked.

 “Up for a game of Doomed after school?” Tucker asked, books held close to his chest like he could use them as a shield against Danny’s bad mood.

“Can’t,” Danny replied shortly, “I have detention.”

Tucker’s shoulders sagged and gave a dejected, “Oh yeah.”

Sam huffed an irritated sigh, “When are you going to stop getting into fights with the Masters kid, Danny?”

She glared as she put her hands to her hips and continued with her lecture, “He’s not worth it. Nobody’s worth it. It’s wrong for you to fight normal humans when you have super powers on your side, Danny. It needs to stop.”

And that was the crux of the matter, the thing that frustrated him more than anything with his friends, they didn’t _know_. They didn’t know that Vlad could take a punch from him, they didn’t know how much of an asshole Vlad really is, they didn’t know that Danny _needed_ to fight Vlad (needed to fight him with _every fiber of his being_ ).

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny made a poor attempt at placating her as they walked down the hall, “I’ll try.”

“That’s not good enough, Danny!” Sam swung around and faced Danny head on, causing their group to stop right in the middle of the hallway, a few other students looked their way. “These fights are getting out of hand! They _need_ to stop.”

Danny’s fists clenched at his sides, anger burning in his chest. His voice was low and bitter when he spoke, “And what are you going to do about it, Sam?”

He stood his ground and grit his teeth, “Are you going to put me in detention too? Fight me yourself?”

Sam narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “No, Danny,” she said calmly, condescendingly, “You’re fucking things up enough _without_ my help. But I can’t condone fighting like this and I can’t be around people who do.”

“Whoa, whoa, Sam,” Tucker put himself between them, “You don’t mean that do you?”

Danny sneered, covering up the pain that stabbed at his chest as he held Sam’s determined glare. “Yeah, Tucker,” he turned his back on the both of them. “She does.”

“Danny, wait!” he could hear Tucker calling after him but he ignored him and kept walking, fists still clenched at his sides.

If there was ever a moment for him to run into Vlad, now would be the best, just so he could vent his frustrations by shoving his smug face right into a locker.

Apparently, someone was listening to his prayers and decided to answer them. Or they just really wanted to see blood spilled today because Danny turned a corner and ran right into numero uno asshole himself.

It was an instantaneous chemical reaction; the moment Danny realized who he’d run into he exploded, shoving Vlad back against the wall with his arm to Vlad’s throat.

Vlad sneered and his eyes glowed a pinkish red for a moment, matching the green glow in Danny’s own eyes, before he grabbed fistfuls of Danny’s shirt and shoved him into the wall on the other side of the hallway.

“What the _fuck_ , Fenton?” he growled, face stopping inches from the other teen’s.

Danny didn’t bother to reply, just clawed at the hands holding him against the wall until they loosened enough for him to fling them to the side and swing a fist into Vlad’s gut.

Vlad doubled over slightly with the hit but managed to shove at Danny’s shoulders to throw him off balance, the momentum sending them both to the floor.

There was more punching and then kicking and then someone started bleeding but they didn’t stop fighting, just getting more aggressive and quick and violent. Cuts and bruises appeared and disappeared just as quickly, their ghost powers each taking most of the damage.

A crowd of students had gathered around them at some point, cheering them on and clogging the hallway. The fights between Vlad and Danny had become legend within Casper High; one, because fights were always exciting events for high schoolers, and two, because Vlad and Danny were known for fighting often and _viciously_. You could always count on blood being spilled at a Masters-Fenton fight.

“BREAK IT UP!” one of the teachers shouted, pushing her way through the crowd of teens, most of which were now scurrying away at the presence of a teacher. “FENTON! MASTERS! _BREAK IT UP_!”

Tetslaff, the gym teacher, grabbed the back of Danny’s shirt and pulled him up and away from where he’d pinned Vlad to the floor. Both of them snarled at the interruption but didn’t do anything more, just let her pull them apart.

“ _Suspension_ ,” Tetslaff spat out. “You two have been a _menace_ to this school and I’ll be surprised if Principle Ishiyama doesn’t kick you out for good.”

Vlad crossed his arms and looked away, shrugging at Tetslaff’s ominous sentencing. He walked off without a word, pissing off the gym teacher even more as she shouted after him.

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING, MASTERS?”

Vlad didn’t say a word and kept walking, walking right out the doors of the school without second glance.

Danny didn’t care, just wiped at the blood smeared across his face as he watched the other teen go.

The ache was already back.


	2. All The Small Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It wasn’t even a few days into his weeklong suspension from school before Danny was prowling around his house like an angry jungle cat and growling up a storm along the way. He was pissed off and restless and angry and irritated and _restless_ and anxious about something but he didn’t know _what_.

The ache in his chest had grown significantly larger and deeper and more painful.

He couldn’t deny what it was probably about anymore, either. He hadn’t seen Vlad in _days_ and he was getting desperate. He’d nearly broken his hand punching the wall when he’d finally let the revelation hit, finally admitted the truth, until his hand stitched itself up with a faint green glow. There wasn’t a mark left on his hand, but his wall had still suffered.

He just wanted to know _why_ it was there. What was causing it? What had triggered it in the first place? Was there any way to make it stop completely? Would he have to live with this constant pain for the rest of his life? What was _happening inside his body?_ He wanted answers. He wanted answers that made sense. Not vague guesses that freaked him out on a level he wouldn’t admit. (Because who _wouldn’t_ be freaked out at the thought that the biggest asshole they’d ever met might somehow be the key to making the pain go away?)

He was afraid, too, deep down. Afraid that it wouldn’t ever go away. Afraid that it _would_. Afraid that it would disappear just as suddenly as it appeared and then he’d be forced to deal with the aftermath of it all. Of the trouble it’d gotten him into. Of the noxious cocktail of emotions it caused that he didn’t even _dare_ to look at. Because without it he wouldn’t have an excuse to get close to Vlad anymore. Not without admitting things he never wanted to face.

“Daniel James Fenton.” His mother’s sharp reprimand from inside the kitchen caused him to spin around from his position on the stairs. She sounded pissed beyond belief and he really, really hoped it was because of anything but him. He also wondered how she’d even known it was him. “I need to speak with you.”

Danny cursed under his breath; no such luck. He’d already had the talk and the grounding and the punishment for the suspension. (“We’re very disappointed in you, son.” “You’ll be grounded for the rest of the school year, no ifs, ands, or buts.” “We’re taking away everything, your games, your car, your tv. The only thing you’ll have time for is studying.”) So what in the world could this be about? All he wanted to do was sulk in some void in the Ghost Zone and hope that might somehow ease the searing _burn_ under his ribs.

“Coming,” he called back nervously. He did _not_ want to face the wrath of his mother, especially when she’d pulled the full name thing, and even more especially because he didn’t know what he did in the first place (leaving him blind and defenseless against any and all accusations).

When he entered the kitchen, the neutral battleground, she had one hand on her hip and a sharp look in her eye. The hood to her hazmat suit was off and she already had a cup of coffee in her other hand, both of which meant serious business. It was a look she wore often, when she caught him coming back home after curfew.

“Mom?” he questioned as he inched further into the room, choosing to stand behind one of the wooden chairs at the table for a quick getaway should he need it.

“I just had a talk with Mrs. Masters,” she started and Danny nearly ripped the chair under his hands apart.

“You _what?!_ ” he shouted, “Mom-!”

“You and her son have been _fighting!_ ” she snapped with a finger pointed towards him in accusation. “Daniel James I thought I taught you better than that! What do you have to say for yourself, young man?”

“He’s the one that starts it!” Danny snapped back, the pain in his chest making him testier than he usually dared to be in a moment like this.

“Well, you’re going to _finish it!_ ” she hissed, “I’m taking you over to their house _this afternoon_ and you are going to _apologize_ to him whether you want to or not.”

“What?!” Danny snarled, his hands squeezing the wood of the chair just a bit too tightly, he could feel an inexcusable amount of rage boiling up within him. If he wasn’t careful his eyes might start to glow. “No! He doesn’t _deserve_ an apology! He’s a pompous asswipe and I won’t say sorry to him even if it _kills me!_ ”

“Daniel James!” she cut through his tirade sharply, “That is no way to speak to your mother and you _will_ go up to that boy and make amends and it will _not_ kill you to do so. I don’t care why you’re fighting with that boy or who started what. You’re gonna to play nice with him and you’re gonna _like it_. Or so help me Danny I will ground you for the rest of your _life_.”

Danny was still angry, still frustrated and furious beyond belief for no apparent reason, but he also valued what was left of his half-life so he looked away from his mother and mumbled a bitter, “ _Fine_.” Before releasing his strangling grip on the chair and storming up the stairs to his room. His mother could come get him when she wanted to leave.

It was only a few hours later that he realized going to see Vlad and being in the same vicinity as him might help the ache somehow. The thought only made him angrier and even more anxious.

Fuck everything.


	3. Life Is A Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a gift from me to you <3

Danny, briefly, considered ding-dong-ditching Vlad’s house and making a run for it. That way he’d be able to piss off Vlad and not have to talk to him, a win-win situation in his mind. The only problem was his mom’s firm grip on his shoulder, like the talons of a hawk clutching her prey, that prevented him from doing anything remotely devious or prank-like. If he bolted now he’d probably die. Well, maybe not _die_ , but he’d have to be on the run for the rest of his life. Go into the witness protection program. Never feel safe in his life again. Because he had no doubt that if he made a break for it now, his mom would hunt him to the ends of the earth.

So no, he could not, would not, ding-dong-ditch Vlad Master’s _too-fucking-big-mansion_ , no matter how much he wanted to.

Didn’t make him want to ring the obnoxiously fancy doorbell either, though.

But he was starting to feel his mom’s glare burn a hole in the back of his head so he grumbled and cursed and pushed the stupid probably-plated-in-real-gold button and waited for a probably-named-something-like-Jeeves butler answer the door.

But “Jeeves” never opened the door.

Vlad did.

For some reason it was the last thing Danny expected to happen, so it kind of tripped him up. It also seemed to trip Vlad up too. Not the being-the-one-to-answer-the-door-thing, but the Danny-being-on-his-doorstep-with-no-explanation-thing. Probably.

They both just stared at each other. Both mildly surprised and internally sighing in extreme relief. The ache had disappeared for both of them (for the mean time at least).

“Fenton,” Vlad said stiffly once he seemed to get his shit together. He stood ram-rod straight in a forced type of posture Danny had rarely seen him take on, it made him look even more like an ass and a little on the defensive side. His eyes kept looking Danny over, suspicious and confused. He looked just like he did at school; fancy-ass cardigan that was probably cashmere, fancy-ass, properly ironed, dress pants, fancy-ass high gloss polished shoes, fancy-ass real gold watch, etc. etc. Except that, for some reason, he seemed a lot more sullen and tense. Strange.

“Masters,” Danny spat back. Just because his mom was making him apologize didn’t mean he had to be nice about it. In fact, he was going to try and be as hostile about it as possible. Because like hell was he going to start giving an actual fuck about Vlad’s _feelings_. He felt the hands on his shoulder squeeze in warning and Danny mentally shaved _at least_ two or three years off his life expectancy.

“Remember your _manners_ , sweetie,” his mom said cheerily, yet there was an undertone of steel that made Danny shiver. Make that four years.

Vlad arched an eyebrow and gave him a look that seemed to say, _Yes, Daniel, remember your manners_ , without him having to even open his mouth. He was likely just as afraid of the Fenton matriarch’s wrath as Danny was. Still, Danny was both irritated and grudgingly impressed. He wanted to be able to say things without saying them, too.

“Hello, Vlad, dear,” his mother said, and Danny wanted to gag, “Danny came by to say something important, didn’t you sweetie?”

Danny would rather have faced a full-death on the spot than look Vlad in the eye and actually apologize for anything ever, but considering the tightened grip on his shoulders a full-death was a real possibility if he didn’t.

“Yes,” he said grudgingly. Every bit of this was grudgingly. He didn’t want to be here, even if the ache in his chest had been soothed just by _seeing_ Vlad. He still hated the shitlord after all.

“Hello, Mrs. Fenton,” Vlad says like the snobby-fake-polite rich kid that he is. Danny can tell that he’s enjoying this and he has to hold back to urge to kick him in the shin. Fucking dickweed. “What was it that you wanted to say, Daniel?”

Vlad’s tone was sickly sweet and Danny grit his teeth to stop himself from punching that smug smile off his face. The sooner he got this over with the sooner he could leave and _not_ get ultra-double-forever-grounded by his mom because he kicked the shit out of Vlad when he was supposed to be apologizing. The longer he was around Vlad the more likely he was to end up fighting him.

He grumbled as quietly as he could manage at first, wanting to get away with minimum effort and minimum embarrassment/wounded pride.

“What was that?” Vlad said with the type of conceited, stuck-up, pompous smile that made Danny’s skin crawl it was so full of ego and haughty amusement. Danny was going to find him at some point and he was going to kill him. Or at least give him a real good kick in the balls.

“I’m. _Sorry_.” Danny couldn’t even look the asshole in the eye when he said that. This was the worst day of his life and he just wanted to leave.

Vlad opened his mouth, probably to say something awful like “I couldn’t hear you” just so he could gloat and make Danny say it again, but his eyes snapped over to Danny’s mom before he nodded his head. Then he said with one of the fakest ‘gracious’ and ‘humble’ voices Danny had ever heard, “I accept your, apology.”

“Good,” Danny’s mom chirped with a smile. “Now, I hope you boys can learn to get along better.”

“Of course,” Vlad said at the same time Danny said, “Sure, mom.”

They exchanged heated glares. At least his mom didn’t seem to notice.

“Vlad, dear,” she said, “I wanted to ask, is your mother home? I talked to her earlier on the phone but I wanted to see if we could chat in person.”

Vlad stiffened like he was suddenly in pain, his previously taunting expression closed off and shut down. His voice was tight and clipped when he answered, “No. She’s still in Paris.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding a bit taken aback but she brushed it off, “Well, that’s alright then, we’ll talk another time. I have some shopping to do anyway.”

Then she patted Danny’s shoulders, finally releasing her prey grip, gave them _both_ a jaunty wave, said, “You have fun boys!” and skipped off to the RV so fast it gave Danny whiplash. It also left him still standing on Vlad’s doorstep as she drove off.

Vlad looked shell-shocked and Danny cursed as he watched the worst familiar betrayal to ever take place in the history of ever unfold before his eyes. “ _Et tu, Mater?”_ whispered on the winds.

Danny watched the RV drive off and until he was sure that it was out of sight. If he couldn’t see her then she couldn’t see him. Then, slowly, he turned to face Vlad again. Vlad arched an eyebrow at him and Danny clenched his fist.

Vlad didn’t have time to duck the sucker punch.

He did, however, have time to launch a kick into Danny’s stomach afterwards.

From there they fell into their usual routine. Punching, kicking, jabbing, and generally ending up rolling on the floor trying to strangle each other. (Neither of them wanted to think about how close they held the other, even if it was in a violent sense rather than… any other type of sense.) Danny was angry, furious with Vlad (like always) and furious with his mother for making him come here. It didn’t matter that the ache in his chest had faded with proximity to Vlad, it just made him all the angrier with denial. He vented that all out on Vlad with bloody punches and quick-fading bruises. Danny fought viciously, but Vlad seemed to be incensed to a completely different level.

He fought like a wounded animal, mindless and hurt and crazed. It was close to scary with the way growled and kicked with as much strength as he could muster (which, considering they both had supernatural strength, was very, very hard). Danny was flung away from Vlad and he landed somewhere in the perfectly manicured lawn, spitting blood from his mouth and clearing his head just enough to realize something was different and probably wrong. Vlad was never this wild.

Vlad charged for him, his eyes burning pink, but Danny decided that enough was enough with this fight and turned invisible before changing and taking flight, avoiding the berserk Vlad still snarling on the ground. He didn’t want to be ripped to shreds today, thank you very much, no matter how angry he was.

Vlad didn’t pursue him after he disappeared, just stood there glaring at the ground while pink flames arched from his clenched fists. Danny watched him a bit, wondering what exactly had caused such a huge reaction with the other teenager. After a few silent moments he flew off, shaking his head at himself. Vlad was a pissbaby and that’s all there was to it.

But as he passed intangibly through the mansion he thought it might have something to do with how empty the big house felt.

He closed a fist over his chest as the ache came back (harsh and seemingly even worse than before) before he finally slipped through the portal in his house and escaped into the Ghost Zone.


	4. All The Lies In The Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vlAD POV!!

Vlad was pissed. Vlad was beyond pissed. He couldn’t _see_ straight he was so angry. And hurt. And kind of just resigned somehow and a little jaded. He was used to this fury. He’d known it for a very long time. It was part of a constant in his life, he’d felt it for so long. And it was back again now, a sharp spike of fire in his stomach to go along nicely with the deep ache in his chest.

He was angry at the memory behind that one little comment and he was angry at himself for being so weak to that same little comment.

_Is your mother home? Is your mother home? Is your mother home?_

No. She never was. She never is. She never would be.

Vlad stormed into the house like a hurricane, all snarling growls and bared teeth, his fists clenching with pink fire after slamming the front doors shut with an echoing bang. He hated this house. He hated that it was so empty. He hated that he hated it so much. And most of all he hated Danny Fenton for being the most annoying person on the planet.

He delved further into his house as he stormed and snarled, reaching towards the depths of it before coming to an abrupt stop in front of the grand fireplace. He usually avoided this room at all costs. It was the worst room in the house and the most painful to be in. But his blind rage brought him here anyway. Above the fireplace was the old family portrait.

He was young in the portrait. A baby still, so young his memory couldn’t reach back to the time it was painted. He looked like a happy toddler and he yearned to remember that time. When his mother was still alive and his father still came home on occasion. She looked beautiful and serene— or maybe that was the romanticized version he saw— with delicate features, deep blue eyes that perfect conveyed her warm smile, and light brown hair flowing over her shoulder in gentle curls. She looked the epitome of a loving mother. She had been for the most part until she’d been killed. His father beside her was all hard lines and stern features, light green eyes and thick black hair, a prominent nose and a sturdy chin. He looked rough and austere but the soft spark in his eye as he looked at his wife was still there. Vlad didn’t think he’d ever seen it in person, it hadn’t been there in years. Mikhail Masters, business man extraordinaire, wasn’t ever home long enough to love his family. His son.

He wanted to burn it to the ground. He wanted to never see it again.

The fire in his hands grew hotter and brighter, the heated ectoplasm near burning his still-human skin. And he was so close. So close to raising that fist and blasting that damned portrait to oblivion. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. His fists stayed white-knuckled at his sides. It was the only picture of his mother he had left.

He snarled and punched the fireplace instead.

The brick gave way under his knuckles like he was punching a cloud; crumbling from the force and smoking from the heat. Chest heaving and arm embedded in the hole he created, he stood there with his thoughts tumbling over themselves in a messy, angry tangle, before his breathing returned to normal and his eyes could focus properly.

He shook his head and sighed. He shouldn’t have lost control so intensely like that. Especially from such a little thing. And most especially in front of Mrs. Fenton, even if she’d left before she could see it. She was much too nice and much too soft to ever have to witness a temper tantrum from him, she didn’t deserve that. She was everything a mother should be, everything his mother no longer was. He admired how much she was willing to show her love to her son, even if that miserable wretch never appreciated it. It was one of the reasons, among a very long list of many, that he absolutely _hated_ Danny Fenton to the very depth of his core.

His core that writhed and throbbed with pain in his absence. His core that made him feel like he was _dying,_ again, when he wasn’t in physical contact with the person he hated most in the world. It felt like his own body was betraying him. Just like it did when he was twelve; when his own stupidity had made him into this strange half-dead hybrid _freak_. When his own stupidity had cost him his _mother._

He yanked his arm free of the fireplace. His thoughts were jagged and useless and circling. He didn’t want to think about pain or mothers or _Danny Fenton_ anymore or ever again. He needed to focus on something else. He needed to find out _why_ this pain kept appearing and disappearing so he could make it stop. With his school suspension it’s not like he had anything better to do.

It made no sense. Both he and Danny have had their powers and known each other for nearly four years now. They’d been in contact, they’d been half-ghosts together, for _four years_. So if this pain in his core, and likely Danny’s as well with the amount of times he mutually sought out fist fights, really was because of their weird halfa-biology, then why was it happening _now?_ What caused the change?

He stared down at his hands blankly.

Was he dying again?

Was the ecto-acne from six years ago back again?

He clenched his fists again, bones creaking and muscles tensing. No. It wasn’t the acne again, he wouldn’t _let it_ be the acne again. The pain would’ve been much worse anyway. No, this was something new entirely. He’d have to exhaust all his resources to find out what it _really_ was.

But first, he had to find the _shithead_ impersonating his mother over the phone and take out the simmering, leftover anger out on them. He was pretty sure he already knew who it was, it was just a matter of finding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if mom dead then who was phone ??????


	5. Gonna Go Far Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw finally spills the beans but danny hates eating his vegetables (which doesnt even make sense bc im p sure beans arent veggies but oh well)

“I just don’t understand?! Like, why is he such an asshole?!”

“Daniel.”

“What right does he have to be so smug about everything?! It just makes me wanna punch him in his stupid hot face!”

“Daniel, please.”

“And then I also kinda feel sorry for him?! Like, FUCK THAT, he’s a total dick and I shouldn’t feel sorry for him at all! Not even a little bit!”

“Is there a point to this?”

“ _YES!_ ” Danny spun around on the spot and pointed an accusing finger in Clockwork’s direction. “The _point_ of all this is that you _still_ won’t tell me what up with the shitty, constant heart attack I’ve had! The _point_ is that Vlad’s an _asswipe_ and I wanna fix this stupid pain!”

Clockwork floated in place, impassive and unimpressed. He arched an eyebrow and waited.

“Fine!” Danny threw his hands up. “I also needed to vent and my friends still aren’t talking to me. Happy?”

“Not particularly.”

Danny narrowed his eyes, “You’re an asshole too, you know that?”

Clockwork smirked but said nothing, raising his eyebrow again in question.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop ranting,” Danny said as he popped a hip against one of the many monitors with fuzzy visions of the future that took up most of the room in Clockwork’s lair. “But seriously, can you _please_ tell me what’s wrong with me? And preferably how to fix it?”

Clockwork frowned, “I don’t think you’re prepared to know.”

“What’s that even supposed to _mean?”_ Danny protested, “I’m in _pain_ , dude. I want it to stop, so please, _spare me_.”

“Fine,” Clockwork said, “But you won’t like it.”

He then floated over to one of the empty screens and waved his staff over it, mumbling about “overdramatic teens” the whole time until the image of a green ball of ectoplasm appeared with the word “CORE” underneath it. Danny didn’t much care about the complaints so long as he was finally getting an explanation.

“The essence of a ghost is manifested in its core. I’ve told you this before.” The little image of a core bounced on the screen when Clockwork mentioned it.

“Yeah,” Danny replied, absently rubbing a hand over his own core. They’d talked about them before but it made sense the Time Master was bringing them up again considering that’s where Danny figured the pain was coming from.

“Cores have many uses, beyond being the center of a ghost. It alerts you to enemy ghosts,” the image flickered to a clip of Danny’s ghost sense going off, “it instinctively conserves energy and then uses that energy to heal you when you need it most,” the image flickered again, this time showing a bruise rapidly healing up, “and it’s call can match you with a compatible mate,” the image flickered for a last time, showing two different cores sending out waves of energy.

“Okaaaaay,” Danny said, drawing out the word and not particularly liking where this was going.

“When ghosts encounter a compatible mate, their core spikes in energy and releases what is called a “core-call”, and it manifests as an irritating buzz until the ghost meets back with the compatible mate or encounters a new one. The stronger the call, the stronger the compatibility and the higher the power level. Ghosts evolved this way so they could find mates in the first place and then reproduce the strongest offspring.”

“Alright,” Danny said, his breath catching a little bit and _very much_ not liking where this was going.

Clockwork gave him a knowing look but continued on with his impromptu lesson, “Ghosts that have felt the core-call are usually forced to be in close proximity to the other until the core has felt it’s had enough and stops buzzing when they separate. From there they have either decided to mate or part ways. In either case they consider each other allies afterwards as core compatibility is rare and it signifies a great ability to work and fight together in synch. Most ghosts mate after a core-call for these reasons.”

Danny was sitting down now having sunk to the floor, kind of in denial, and just waiting for Clockwork to finish up and move on because surely this didn’t have anything to do with what was going on, right?

“You and Vladimir being half-ghosts changes things, at least I assume. The core-call manifests as an intense pain to both of you because your core is buzzing while you are still in human form. Ghost biology and human biology do not mix well, even in halfas.”

Danny very, very, much did not like this. He did not like this at all. Any bit of it. No thanks.

“How do I make it _stop?”_ he asked hoarsely. He was afraid of the answer.

“You will have to do what ghosts do,” Clockwork said with a frown. “Stay near each other until the buzzing stops.”

Danny ran a hand through his hair and clutched at the strands, pulling them just slightly to make sure he could still feel something and that this all was real. He kind of wished it was all a dream.

“Isn’t there _any_ other way to make it stop?!”

Clockwork looked slightly apologetic, but his words were still damning, “No.”

“Fuck.”

* * *

Danny spent the rest of his day in a haze, going home and lying in bed for the majority of it, just staring up at the ceiling and going over his options. Rubbing at the spot where he could now feel his core jumping around in his chest.

He hated Vlad. There was no getting around that or changing it. He was too much of a prick. Even if he was pretty. Which, Danny thought sternly to himself, _didn’t matter_. Because he was an asshole and they fought near constantly. He’d rather punch Vlad in the face again than have to spend “quality time” with him.

But there was no other way to make the pain stop. And it hurt like a bitch.

They were both suspended from school anyway so they could just glare at each other in the same place if need be, without classes getting in the way. And it wouldn’t be so bad if they made a temporary truce or something right? They could just… ignore each other but in the same room or something…

He’d just have to explain to Vlad what was happening.

_Nope_ , he decided, turning over and curling into his covers, _not gonna think about it anymore. Not tonight at least. Might not think about it ever again and I’ll just have to deal with it._

He fell into a very restless sleep after that, his dreams haunted by the image of Vlad looking feral and desperate and an ache in his chest that was distinctly different from the pain of his core.


End file.
